


50th Anniversary Ficlets

by bonesmctightass



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, People Watching, Romance, Spock bonding with a small child, chapter 6 has major character death and suicide, happy bones, jim is a jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7974958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonesmctightass/pseuds/bonesmctightass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of ficlets I've written based on prompts and headcanons submitted to me by Tumblr users. Message to submit one!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Spock waiting impatiently in sickbay for Bones to finish his last rounds before they go on a date

Five minutes go by.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Spock looks at the chronometer again. He is sitting on a vacant biobed watching Leonard mill about sickbay with seemingly no sense of urgency. The doctor continues his work, despite the fact that they were due for a dinner date half an hour ago. A very unsettling, very _human_ , sensation settles in the pit of his stomach and threatens to eat him alive. He plants the seed of doubt within himself. _Perhaps Leonard is too busy for me._

He spares another glance at the timepiece, tracking each passing moment that is being wasted on perfectly logical undertakings. A long finger taps at the metal table. He can’t stop fidgeting. This is a completely irrational reaction, he thinks. Leonard has a job to do. But Spock hates that the object of his affection is projecting his attentions elsewhere. He sighs deeply and closes his eyes, itching for a brief session of meditation to settle the waves of emotion in his mind.

“-ock. _Spock._ Darlin’.” Startled, Spock opens his eyes again and settles on Leonard. _How long has he been calling my name?_ “There you are. Every time you go into your head like that I think you’re not gonna come back.” Add guilt to the list of illogical human emotions Spock is currently contending with.

“Anyway, sorry that took so long. There was a malfunction with some of the equipment, had to record patient data the old fashioned way.” Leonard offers a sheepish smile. He reaches out to set a hand on the back of Spock’s neck and leans in close. Spock breathes him in, loves the way Leonard fills his lungs, gives him life. “Been lookin’ forward to our date all day. I’m fixin’ to spoil you good and plenty. And you better believe I’m gonna make up for that lost time.”

 _Sweet relief._ Spock closes the distance between them, brushes his lips to Leonard’s in a declaration of the affection he feels and doesn’t know how to vocalize. “That is not necessary,” he breathes against his lover’s lips. Now he feels foolish for ever doubting where he stands.

That night, Leonard makes good on his promises. 


	2. Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bones collecting flowers for Spock or putting flowets in his hair or giving him flowers pretending it's scientific but it's really just romantic and the science he's spouting is bullshit

“Leonard, what _are_ you doing?” The good doctor is attempting to affix a rather ornate flower to Spock’s hair. After several failed tries, he finally succeeds. He makes no efforts to stop the movement despite the fact that he doesn’t understand or welcome the gesture. Leonard props his hands on his hips, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Complexion,” he says vaguely.

“I beg your pardon?” Spock questions with a raised brow.

“It’s good for the complexion. You know, clears up the pores and makes the skin healthy. Its properties are only effective if it’s close to the face.” Leonard gestures to the flora, admiring the way it complements his mate’s greenish hues.

Spock looks at Leonard skeptically, knows full well that every word was a blatant lie. He exhales softly and accepts the action for what it really is. “You are quite the romantic, Doctor.”

Leonard smiles wryly as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”


	3. The Shirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Spock wearing one of Bones' casual shirts. I don't care what else is happening, just Spock in Bones' shirt

The shrieking of the alarm startles Leonard awake and in a brief moment of panic, he thinks he’s overslept. A quick glance at the chronometer quells his anxiety and he relaxes into the mattress with an undignified groan. He silences the offending gadget and feels around for the warm body that was next to him when he fell asleep. Leonard is not really surprised when his hand reaches the other side of the bed undeterred. Spock is always an early riser.

Leonard sits up and prepares himself for a little morning hide-n-seek. His ears perk to the sound of water running and surmises that his beloved mate must be in the shower. He hauls himself away from the warmth of his bed and meanders over to the bathroom. “Good mor—“

He was entirely unprepared for the scene unfolding in front of him. Spock was standing in front of the sink methodically brushing his teeth. Still damp hair was disheveled from the press of fingers and the wipe of a towel. But the most striking feature of his lover’s morning appearance was Leonard’s own _Ole Miss_ T-shirt hanging loosely on Spock’s torso. _Sweet Jesus._

“Uuuhh.” Leonard muttered intelligently. He could swear on his mama’s grave he heard Spock chuckle. The Vulcan bent over the sink to rinse his mouth and return his toothbrush to the stand beside Leonard’s. As soon as he moved, the well-worn T-shirt rode up Spock’s back and Leonard was delighted to see that there wasn’t a scrap of fabric underneath.

His brain promptly shorted out at the delicious sight of Spock’s unclothed backside. Apparently he was staring pretty hard because when he finally tore his eyes away a familiar tinge of green was working its way up elegantly pointed ears.

“Good morning, Leonard. I do hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to your closet. I found myself lacking proper clothing.” Spock wasn’t about to tell Leonard that his uncharacteristic forgetfulness was entirely intentional.

“You kidding? I’m never letting you wear your uniform around here again. You should only wear my clothes. Specifically that shirt. Only that shirt. And nothing else.”

Spock allowed himself a small smile before leaning into Leonard and pressing a small kiss to his lips. “I believe that can be arranged.”


	4. Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine it being the anniversary of the Enterprise' maiden voyage and the crew plan on baking a cake to celebrate but no one can decide on a flavor. At all. A room full of grown, decorated Starfleet officers bickering over cake and frosting.

“What do you mean no chocolate? Why the hell not?” Somebody calls out. Jim is not entirely sure who because the entire bridge crew along with the Enterprise’s top officers are huddled around the table in the conference room yelling over each other about what the flavor of the anniversary cake should be. “Because, you idiot! No chocolate unless you want a drunk Vulcan loose on the ship!” Bones. That one was definitely Bones.

“I assure you, Doctor, I have no intention of partaking in _any_ of the various sweet offerings at the celebration.” Spock shoots him down quickly, which only makes Bones angrier. Jim can’t quite follow the bickering that ensues and he’s not sure he wants to. He opens his mouth to make a suggestion, but Chekov cuts in before he’s able.

“What about a honey flavor? Medianyk is a wery popular confection in Russia—“

“Chekov, sweetie, if I hear you say one more thing about Russia I swear I’m going to deck you.” That threatening voice sounds suspiciously like Uhura, but she’s normally quite docile and affectionate. Who knew this discussion was going to turn everyone into cranky toddlers?

Jim knows this debate is very shortly going to turn into an outright brawl if he doesn’t do something. He tries again to interject but Scotty’s booming voice grabs the attention of the room.

“What about somethin’ with alcohol? Eh… a White Russian cake? Not a lick o’ chocolate, not too sweet, nice an’ boozy, very Russian.” The room was suddenly humming with murmurs of approval. Leave it to Scotty to defuse the bomb. Jim sags against the wall he’s leaning on, relieved that the stressful cake debacle is finally coming to a close. As everyone is readying to leave the room, Sulu decides to reignite the dialogue.

“Okay, so that’s settled. But what kind of icing should it have?”


	5. Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: How about Chekov feeling really terrible about not being able to save Spock's mother and Spock reassures him that there's nothing he could have done and he harbors no ill will. Cuddles and kissing ensue?

Something was off. The ship was functioning normally, all systems were running smoothly, everyone was performing well and behaving normally. But something was undeniably _wrong_. Spock couldn’t quite put his finger on it until—

“Mister Spock. As we have a lull in activity on the bridge at this moment, would you be so kind as to retrieve Ensign Chekov from his quarters? It seems he’s playing hooky this morning.” Ah, yes. That was it. They certainly were short one helmsman. How could he not have noticed?

“Yes, Captain. It could be quite disastrous if we encounter a problem and the helm is not properly manned. I shall return shortly.” Spock rose from his station and relinquished the equipment to another officer. He took the lift to the cabin level and strode down the hallway, intent on returning the young officer to his post.

Upon his arrival, Spock announced his presence and was met with an unsettling silence. He waited for a full minute before inputting his override code into the door lock and inviting himself in. “Ensign, you are late. You were needed on the bridge exactly forty-two minutes ago.”

Chekov looked up from his perch on the small bed. He was shaking violently, hugging his knees tight to his chest. His large, moist eyes were red from crying. Spock started, rooted to the spot while he considered his actions. The boy was clearly agitated and lamenting over something. Setting his jaw, Spock crossed the room and sat down beside the distressed officer. “You should contact Doctor McCoy if you are not well.”

Having already gone through a litany of psych evaluations since the destruction of Vulcan, Chekov shook his head rapidly in protest. This was not something the doctor could fix. No one could. “I am sorry. Wery, wery sorry. So sorry.” The fabric of his shirt was muffling the muttering, but Spock heard nevertheless.

“I do not understand.” Chekov buried his face deeper into his arms and sobbed so hard it wracked his whole frame. Spock hesitated before placing a hand on the small of the blonde’s back. “Perhaps if you explain I can help you.”

“Your mother,” he cried brokenly. “I could not sawe her. If only I could have calibrated the transporter beam differently, if I had more time, I could have stopped her from falling.” Chekov shook his head again, struggling to breathe. “Her death. Her death is on my hands. It is on my hands, Meester Spock.”

Spock sighed gently, his expression softening. He had not anticipated that such a loss would be so deeply felt by others. Suddenly he felt foolish for selfishly assuming that her death would weigh only on his mind. “There was nothing you could have done. If you had those few more seconds, it would not have mattered. We would all have been lost.”

Chekov spluttered and looked up, stricken. Spock reached up to carefully cup his face and held it there. “I am alive, as is my father, because you did not hesitate. You acted quickly and efficiently. You are solely responsible for saving my life, my family, my culture. The Vulcan race will regroup and thrive again because of you, Chekov, and only you. I am forever in your debt for that.”

For a long moment Chekov simply stared, wide eyed with disbelief. Spock was beginning to worry about the state of the ensign’s psyche when Chekov leaned forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Spock’s waist. He smiled brightly against his Vulcan’s chest and reveled in the comfort that finally eased the storm in his heart. When he pulled back there was sun on his face, in his eyes, in his smile.

Spock was doomed.

He leaned in and captured Chekov’s lips in a sweet kiss, pressed his small body flush to his chest and held him there. They breathed life into each other’s lungs, basked in the sun that shone brighter and warmed them to the core.

They never made it back to the bridge.  


	6. Never You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Something with the line "It was never you". And preferably with spones because I've been dying because of your other ones

This wasn’t how things were supposed to play out. They weren’t invincible, sure, but _this_? No, this just wasn’t fair. They were supposed to survive the mission, get old and grey and too worn out to fly around the stars, retire from Starfleet and live out their golden years in paradise. This was like some sick, twisted nightmare.

Jim Kirk was never meant to lie in a casket. He was never meant to be taken out in his prime, the life squeezed out of him. His last living memory was never meant to be the floor of a starship surrounded by death and blood and _failure._    

And yet, somehow, there he was. At the funeral of the greatest Captain, the greatest man, Starfleet had ever known. Uhura couldn’t bring herself to go. She made it as far as the old Iowan church before she burst into tears and had to be escorted out. Scotty, well, he was somewhere at the bottom of a bottle. Chekov, the poor kid, he couldn’t take the stress of everything that happened. His funeral was earlier that month. And no one had seen Sulu since the accident. Whether he was alive or dead, no one knew. He was probably holed up in a lab somewhere.

Leonard sat alone in a pew at the front of the church. The ceremony had long since ended. It was beautiful, really. Jim would have liked the classical music. He would have liked that his mother wouldn’t cry. She was so strong. If there was only something he could have done. Leonard wracked his brain, tried every trick in the book, every saving grace he could think of, every technique, every skill he had ever learned. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t save Jim.

“You are still here.” Leonard startled and whipped around to see Spock looming over the bench, staring down at him with a solemn expression.

“Yeah. Well. So’re you.” He sighed and slumped further down into the uncomfortable wooden fixture, scrubbing his calloused hands over his stubbled face. “Can’t believe he’s really gone. Keep feelin’ like he’ll pop up out of there and laugh like the whole thing was a practical joke.”

Spock scowled and gripped the pew so hard his knuckles turned white. He was _angry_. All the time. A fire was always burning deep inside of him. It was going to consume him if he didn’t let it out. Leonard was afraid to get scorched, tried to tread carefully and consider every word.

“Come on, Spock. Let’s go home. Maybe if we take some time off we’ll feel better. What d’you say we take a vacation, huh? Just the two of us?” Leonard asked hopefully. If they got away from all of this, maybe the Spock he knew and loved would come back to him. Right now, the man was only a shell of his former self.

“I will not.” The wood beneath Spock’s fingers was beginning to bow under the pressure. “I cannot continue this life with you, Leonard. It is too much to bear. It is not fair to either of us.”

“What? What are you talking about? You don’t mean that. You’re just upset by everything, it’s okay.” Leonard stood to come face to face with the Vulcan, looking absolutely frantic. “Spock, we can get through this together. You need some time to put this behind you, to forget. We all do.”

That was all it took for the dam to break. Spock shouted in agony, shoved at the pew with such force that it toppled over and the rest of the row came down like weightless dominos. Everything in Leonard’s body was screaming at him to run but he stood rooted to the spot. He had to wait through the storm. Just wait for this to die out and everything would be back to normal.

“Don’t you understand? It was never you. It was never supposed to be you.”

“Spock, what are you—“

“Jim. Jim was everything to me. Everything. I was meant for Jim, always. You can never replace him. You will never live up to him. I cannot love you the way I loved him.”

His body felt like it was weighted down by cement. Leonard couldn’t find his voice, didn’t know what words to say, couldn’t even find air to fill his lungs. The tears he knew were welling in his eyes threatened to fall. He wouldn’t let them fall. He couldn’t.  

“I am sorry, Leonard. It is over.” And with that, Spock gathered the tattered and fraying edges of his control and strode calmly out of the church and into the hot August air.

And on that day, in that heated and broken building, there laid not one, but two dead men.  


	7. Short

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Spock is a single inch taller than bones and Bones gets too annoyed and Spock thinks it's the sweetest thing.

“Hey. Spock. Don’t you think it’s just adorable how short Bones is?” Jim was teetering on the edge of his chair grinning from ear to ear as he tried to start a squabble between his two favorite officers, or at least get his CMO to blush a pretty red.

“I do not understand how the height of an individual could possibly be considered an endearing quality, Captain.” Leave it to Spock to settle an argument.

“For the last time, Jim, I am not short! I’m a perfectly average height!” To say he was seething would be an understatement. Leonard was becoming quite self-conscious of his measurements as of late, thanks to Captain McDreamy. “And by the way, I’ll have you know I’m the same height as Spock. You don’t call him short!”

Jim looked as though it was Christmas morning and he was about to tear into a mountain of presents. He pressed a button on his chair. “Nurse Chapel, would you please report to the bridge?” Leonard was completely mortified. Jim was actually going to measure him against Spock to see who was taller. Being the butt of everyone’s jokes was certainly not in his job description. This year he really was going to retire!

Chapel had appeared as quickly as she’d been called. “Captain, is there a problem?”

“Yes, yes there is. Bones seems to have forgotten his and Mister Spock’s measurements. Would you be so kind as to take their heights for me?” Although the nurse looked incredibly dubious of whatever was going on, she acquiesced and encouraged both men to stand back to back.

“Seems you’ve grown a bit, Commander! You’re a full inch taller than Doctor McCoy.” Jim instantly lost it. He fell out of his chair with the force of his own laughter.

Leonard spluttered, immediately turning around and rearing up on the balls of his feet. “Well excuse me if I lack the growth hormones of a Vulcan! And damn the inch, I’m plenty tall enough!”

“Now that you mention it, Captain,” Spock reached up and set a hand atop Leonard’s head. “I think I am beginning to understand the correlation between height and attractiveness.”

That was all it took for Leonard to fall in love all over again.      


	8. Spones' Anatomy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bones walking Spock through a medical procedure.

Three episodes into Grey’s Anatomy, Spock is earnestly doubting the credibility of Meredith Grey and her colleagues. And how was he supposed to learn the medical procedures if he couldn’t see them performing it? He could not understand the relevance of the doctor’s romantic encounters and found them to be rather superfluous. “Leonard, I fail to see how this could possibly be used as a teaching tool.”

Leonard laughed heartily, realizing he never mentioned the genre of the show. “Darlin’ it’s for entertaining, not learning. It’s a drama. This ain’t gonna teach you squat. Besides, they’re all interns right now. They don’t know their asses from their elbows, which is pretty accurate actually.”

“I was under the impression that you were taking my request for medical knowledge seriously.” Spock frowned slightly, fixing his eyes on the holovid screen. “That procedure looks rather interesting. I wish to study it further.”

“That? You want to learn to do an open appendectomy? Suppose I could teach you that, though their techniques are pretty primitive.” Leonard glanced back at the show, watching as one of the doctors screwed up the method and promptly froze in panic. He laughed, having fond memories of being in that exact same situation. “Alright, what the hell. I’ll talk you through it on the dummy. Come on.” The medbay was equipped with artificial cadavers for the purpose of practicing medical procedures. It had been quite a while since Leonard had used one. He was excited to try this with old fashioned tools.

When they arrived, Leonard had given Spock a smock to wear. The Vulcan looked rather attractive in a short sleeved blue shirt. “Okay, now to open you just want to take the scalpel and make an incision from here to here. I marked it for you. Press gentle, now.” He watched with rapt attention as Spock did as he was told. The man was a natural surgeon.

“Good, good. Now that there is the external oblique aponeurosis. What you want to do is cut along the little fibers so you can dissect it from the lateral border. That’s good, darlin’. I’ve got the retractors, I’m coming in to hold it aside for you. Now you cut along there, the transversus abdominis, right there. Gentle, now. Just like you did the EOA. Good, good. See that? That’s the peritoneum, right there. Compress that and you can free the intestine underneath. There you go. Clamp that there and use the sponges to keep it moist. That’s it, darlin’, that’s perfect.”

When Leonard was in his element, it was like he was a completely different person. He was animated, passionate, and confident. Seeing Leonard glow with pride had Spock feeling a strange sort of warmth and comfort. With every movement Leonard would praise him. He didn’t realize how much he enjoyed being told he was doing a good job. Leonard had diligently and expertly walked him through the procedure. Spock had removed the appendix with little intervention from the doctor.

“Hey, you’re a natural. Next time I’d like to teach you modern techniques. That was so good, I can’t wait to see how you do with the current technology.” Leonard was positively beaming, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he did when he was feeling too much.

Spock couldn’t resist. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Leonard’s, reveling in the emotional feedback he received from the fleeting touch. “Thank you, Doctor. I look forward to another lesson.”


	9. Uncles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bones letting Jim and Spock meet Joanna for the first time. Jim is sure hes gonna be her absolute favorite uncle but she latches onto Spock instead. Bones is bewildered. Jim prepares to up his uncle game.

“Now darlin’, before we go in there I gotta explain a few things.” Leonard was kneeling in front of his daughter, preparing her to meet his two dearest friends. Not that he was about to say that out loud. To anyone. Ever.

The San Francisco streets were bustling with activity on the busy Friday afternoon. The Enterprise was docked for its annual repairs for the following week, freeing up the officers for a good long shore leave. It had taken every trick in the book to persuade Jocelyn to put Joanna on a plane and spend the vacation with her father. Fortunately, Jim had gotten a place in the city a while back, so they had a place to stay. And it was in front of that very apartment that Leonard and Joanna were having this conference.

“The blonde one is an _idiot_. He acts smart, but don’t be fooled. If he could, he’d feed you cookies for breakfast and cake for dinner. He’ll make a great playmate for you, but he’s a piss poor excuse for an adult. Between you and him, you’re the mature one. You remember that. Out there he’s in charge, but while we’re here you still follow daddy’s rules, you got that?” When Joanna giggles it melts Leonard’s heart into a molten pool of endless affection. She nods and holds out a pinky in a silent promise. “That’s good. That’s my good girl.” He can’t help but pause to brush her long brunette hair back over her ears.

“Now the tall sickly lookin’ one, his ears are _not_ for pullin’ on, so you keep those pretty little hands to yourself. I know you’re not used to seein’ all of these different kinds of aliens back home, but he’s not that different from us. He takes everything literally so he might not understand what you mean sometimes, and that’s okay. Chances are he’ll question every move you make, but he’s a very logical kind of guy so you’ll just have to let him. Oh, one more thing. He doesn’t like to be touched so you make sure you steer clear of his hands. You got all that, firefly?” Leonard beams with pride when his little girl nods.

“Yes daddy, I got it. I ain’t a baby nomore, I can play nice with the big boys.” How she can look sweet and positively mischievous at the same time is beyond Leonard. Must have gotten that from Jocelyn.  

Leonard knocks on the door as he shuffles the duffel bags on his shoulder to a more comfortable position. Jim answers it and he is radiating excitement and warmth. He sinks down to his knees to address Joanna face to face. “Hey there Jojo! Come on in, kiddo. Your daddy has been telling us all about you. We were so eager to meet you.”

The small girl sidles past Jim and ambles into the middle of the living room. “Couple things,” she starts, and Leonard knows the poor guy is about to get reamed by a six year old. “I ain’t no kid. I’m a big girl! I’ll have you know I’m in the first grade! And only my parents can call me Jojo. You call me Joanna.”

“I see the resemblance,” Spock perks up from his spot on the couch. He’s grinning with his eyes, loving the way the tiny human just put the high and mighty fully grown Starship captain in his place. “Quite the first impression, Jim.”

Leonard is outright _cackling_ in the doorway. Whatever words he’s trying to get out dies on his lips with the force of his laughter.

Joanna sets her sights on Spock and walks over to him with her small hands clasped behind her back and wonder in her eyes. She has never seen a Vulcan before. “I like your ears. Oh my gosh, are you a fairy?!" The girl bounces on the balls of her feet, her tiny body barely able to contain her excitement. 

Spock raises a curious brow and considers the comparison. “I suppose my race does bear a striking resemblance to your mythical Terran creatures. However, your assumption is incorrect. I am a Vulcan." Leonard isn’t sure what surprises him more; that Spock agreed to the assessment or that his daughter has taken an immediate liking to the guy that makes his blood boil. Jim must be having a similar inner monologue because he’s downright gaping at the pair.

Joanna’s smile lights up the room. She hauls herself right up onto Spock’s lap and the Vulcan looks like he’s about ready to piss himself at the contact. Leonard breaks into another fit of laughter. “Don’t look so petrified, hobgoblin.”

“Yeah, daddy already said I’m not s’posed to touch. I’ll be good,” she promises, folding her hands in her lap as a sign of good will. Spock relaxes slightly and tries to ignore the way Jim is glaring at him for stealing his thunder. “Uncle Spock, will you tell me a story about your planet? What are Vulcans like? Do you know any real life fairies?”  

“Very well. I suppose I—“

Jim interjects before Spock can even get started. “Hey Joanna, I picked up some local sweets for you to try. I thought you might like some goodies after the long shuttle over here. You've got to try the donuts here! What do you say to sharing some with me?” Leonard is welling up with pride and love for his little girl as she frowns, looking just like him.

“No thank you. Sweets rot your teeth and daddy says I need to take care of my pretty smile.” Jim drops his shoulders and huffs in defeat. Joanna turns away from him and looks up at Spock with interest, encouraging him to continue. He starts off on a long winded explanation of arbitrary things like his pet sehlat, Vulcan schooling, and his mother’s cooking.

Leonard edges up to Jim’s side and slaps a hand on his shoulder, making him frown impossibly harder. “You tried, Jimboy. Who’d’ve guessed she’d like Spock more than you? I don’t much understand it either." He sighs mournfully and shakes his head.  "Why don’t you make yourself useful and come help me unpack this stuff? Unless you’d rather sit here and listen to the hobgoblin drone on.”

Jim concedes and grabs the bags, carrying them down the guest room at the end of the hallway. They take their time unpacking their clothes and belongings. When the pair return to the living room, Joanna is resting heavily on Spock’s chest. The soothing sound of his voice lulled her right to sleep.

Spock is looking down at her with an expression akin to affection. When Leonard makes a move to pick her up, Spock stops him. “It is quite all right. She has an affinity for my higher body temperature. I assure you, she is rather comfortable. There is a high probability that she will wake if moved.” Leonard finds he can’t argue with that logic. And they do make a rather cute pair. 

The child looks so small on Spock's lap, set against broad shoulders and muscle. She shifts slightly and curls up comfortably against Spock's chest. Leonard almost can't believe his own eyes when he watches Spock drop a hand to sift through her long hair. The proud dad smiles fondly. 

Jim is watching them from the hallway, slowly being consumed by jealousy.  


	10. People Watching

Jim Kirk likes to watch.

No, come on, not like that.

He indulges in the simple pleasure of people watching. There is much beauty on his ship to be appreciated.

Spock, for instance. This Vulcan masterpiece is the picture of elegance, the finest example of intelligence, and he's quite easy on the eyes. Now, Jim enjoys watching Spock from his chair on the bridge as much as the next guy. But what he really likes is getting to watch the man in his natural habitat.

Sometimes Jim finds himself sneaking into the labs for no reason other than to get a glimpse of Spock doing what he loves. A collection of potted plants near the bulkhead make an excellent hiding spot. Contrary to popular belief, Spock actually smiles a lot. When he's sure no one is around to see it, that is.

When he's working on an experiment that yields particularly interesting and unpredictable results, he does the most magnificent thing. It's more beautiful than space, probably.

His eyes widen like a Terran kid on Christmas, and the corners of his mouth turn up slowly as he takes it all in until he's outright beaming. His eyes get all light and sparkly and the first thing he does is pick up his padd and record the results with an impassioned ferocity.

Of course, Jim also likes to watch his friend during their nightly chess matches. Spock's eyes burn with such an intensity and determination to emerge victorious. He takes his time, calculates every possible move and the subsequent consequences of each. And then there's his hands. Jim loves Spock's hands. They treat the chess pieces so delicately. It's amazing how they can be so deadly, yet so graceful.

Okay, so maybe it's more person watching than people watching.


End file.
